The thoughts, fantasies and random ramblings of Ashton Boatman Chris Leah, largely, but not exclusively, connected with his work for the Wooden Canal Boat Society, restoring historic wooden canal boats and putting them to work doing good deeds for the community and the planet.

Tag
Portland Basin

Today Tony and me got a few more trees planted, near the motorway in Audenshaw. I also cut back some sycamores that were threatening trees planted in previous years. We pulled out some shopping trolleys and a bike. Back at Portland Basin we tried to breast up to Southam but "Forget me Not" stemmed up in mid basin. The level is about 9" down but the water should be deep here. I poked around with a keb and managed to move something big but couldn't get it out of the water. It felt like a submerged tree trunk. Here's some pictures of "Forget me Not" around Guide bridge.

Tags

"Elton" has always been the Cinderella of our fleet. It's years since she was docked but she's now got 3 weeks on the dock at the marina. Long overdue anyway but precipitated by the damage caused when she was rammed by "Community Spirit". It's pretty amazing that we've managed to keep her afloat since the damage was done in March. The damage extends below the waterline yet it didn't start her leaking. If she had gone down it would have been a struggle to get her up again with that gaping hole in her stern. It's now being plated up. Here's some pictures of Aaron shafting her across the basin and the damage.

Tags

I recently discovered this on a data stick in the bottom of a carrier bag. I wrote it in 2013, but, though personnel have changed a little, the general situation remains normal, so I thought I might as well publish it here.

Lets
face the music, and dance.

A
few years ago we had a visit from Tony Conder and Roger Hanbury, then
curator and chief executive respectively of The Waterways Trust. Tony
paid our work a brilliant compliment, “you're working wonders on
next to nothing” he said. Certainly, up to then the society had led
a hand to mouth existence and it was a wonder we were able to keep
the boats afloat and functioning.

When
Fiona Jones was working for us, trying to raise funds for our
different projects, I would often have the following conversation
with her:-

Me
“What we really need is continuous funding for 3 full time
boatbuilders”.

Fiona
“ Sorry, but there aren't any funders who will do that, we always
have to fit in with their objectives”.

Me
“But we need funding for 3 full time boatbuilders”.

Fiona
“But there are no funders who will provide that”.

Thanks
largely to Fiona's tenacity we eventually got funding, in the nick
of time, for Hazel's
rejuvenation. This has funded two people to work on Hazel,
but the other boats have been suffering in the meantime because we
really need someone working full time on maintenance to keep
everything afloat and functioning and to carry out the many stitches
in time that will otherwise cost us dear in the long run.

I
mentioned that Hazel's
funding came through in the nick of time. She had sunk several times
in the preceding few years and I was doubtful about how long we would
be able to keep her in one piece so that there was actually something
to work from when it came to restoration. Certainly, when we slipped
her we discovered how weak she had become. By the time the
restoration started we had had Hazel
for 23 years. In that time she had been docked numerous times and
essential maintenance carried out, but, nevertheless, it was clear
that rot was steadily eating through the structure of the boat and
there was nothing that we could do about it without the kind of major
replanking job that we've carried out in the past 18 months. The fact
is that, without our 3 full time boatbuilders, both the completed
Hazel and the 5 other
boats will gradually subside back into dereliction.

Jobs
currently awaiting the time, money and boatyard space include the
following:-

Lilith,
Needs her stern end rebuilding
and a new back cabin.

Forget
me Not, Needs a mid life
overhaul including renewing the top bends and lining planks, renewing
a lot of the shearing, clothing up and renovating the back cabin, not
to mention overhauling and installing the Bolinder.

Southam
, Needs a lot of strengthening of the bow and most of the planks down
the left hand side replacing. This would give an opportunity to put
her on a diet so that she is less likely to get stuck in locks. There
are also ongoing mechanical problems to address.

Queen,
Needs a complete rebuild similar to the work that is being carried
out on Hazel. We also
need to find a Kromhaut semi diesel engine for her.

Elton
Needs a complete rebuild,
similar the work that is being carried out on Hazel.

Obviously,
these jobs, especially Queen
and Elton, are not
going to be carried out overnight, even with our 3 fabulous
boatbuilders, but it's essential that our work on the boats speeds up
so that wood is being replaced faster than it's rotting away. It took
23 years to get work started on Hazel. Queen and
Elton are unlikely to
survive another 23 years without rebuilding, and, at a rate of 23
years per boat, that means poor Elton
would have to wait 46 years for work to start on her.

So,
why can't volunteers do all this work? Once upon a time I used to
spend my spare time firing steam engines on preserved railways.
Sometimes I go for a day out to one, or read about them in the
railway press, and it makes me turn a bright shade of malachite green
to see all the skilled work that is carried out by volunteers. Not
only have volunteer led organisations rescued and mostly restored all
the engines that were once consigned to Barry scrapyard, but now they
are building replicas of the ones that were missed, not just great
express locos like the famous Tornado
but now humble tank engines and, believe it or not, diesels.

This
is what can be done, but the supply of skilled volunteers for boat
restoration is extemely restricted. There are simply not as many boat
fanatics as there are railway fanatics, and many of those who do
exist can satisfy their boating needs by owning a pleasure boat.
Though the Hazel
project has brought to us some excellent and highly skilled
volunteers, they are still heavily outnumbered by the tasks that need
doing. It would be nice if I could just find volunteers to reliably
do simple jobs like printing and distributing recycling leaflets and
keeping the firewood supplies topped up. We need to keep up the
publicity about what we're doing ( there's another thing, we've never
had a volunteer to take charge of publicity over a sustained period)
in the hope that this will bring in more volunteers, but, relying
entirely on volunteers will not get the boats restored, though
conversely, neither can the job be done without them.

So,
how much would these 3 wise boatbuilders cost? Luckily, many skilled
people are prepared to work for a project like ours for well below
what they could earn doing an easier job for a commercial company,
but the costs are more than just wages. If someone is working full
time they use up a lot of materials, which cost money. They also make
it possible for more volunteers to work alongside them, and they also
use expensive materials. The work that we've been doing on Hazel
with two paid workers has been costing about £50,000 a year. That
works out at £25,000 per worker, or £75,000 for the three. Hardly a
bankers bonus but nevertheless, a lot of money to pluck out of thin
air. Where will it come from?

It's
amazing how many people just assume that we are getting huge grants
to underwrite our work. I often get asked by people who have just
taken on a historic boat where to apply. The reality is that you only
get grant money if your project fulfils the objectives of the funder.
Mostly these are social objectives of some kind. Pure heritage funds
are scarce and fiercely fought over by well resourced museums and
heritage railways etc. The funding that we've had for Hazel
is purely to do with the work that she is going to do when she goes
into service. Our funders probably couldn't care less that she is the
last Runcorn wooden header. While it is entirely possible that we
will be able to find more projects that fit with the objectives of a
funder, there is always the danger that we will turn somersaults with
our plans in order to fit a funders objectives, only to end up
reluctantly running a project that wasn't what we really wanted to
do. Luckily we have only had to very slightly tweak the pre existing
Hazel project.

I'm
not knocking grant funding, I'm sure it can play an important part,
but it's always likely to be the icing on the cake. This is how it
should be. Charities that rely too heavily on grants are always
deeply vulnerable to recessions, government cuts and changes of
policy on the part of funders. It also needs a lot of rather tedious
work, not only in filling in the forms but in gathering the
information that they need. For example, while we have figures for
volunteer hours at the boatyard and in the shop, we have no idea of
the overall annual total of volunteer hours, which is something that
funders want to know. We need more volunteers with the time, skill
and inclination to put together all the necessary information, fill
in the forms and, most important, talk with funders. At the moment
Nick Lowther is doing a great job on this, but there's only one of
him!

When
Hazel is in service
she will, inshallah, earn her keep, but she shouldn't really be
funding the other boats. She needs to cover her costs and put a bit
to one side for her own long term maintenance. I calculate that we
will need to put aside £6000 a year to ensure that Hazel
never falls into dereliction again. If she starts earning more than
running costs plus £6000 then we should be looking at reducing
charges for her users. Associated with developing the Hazel
project will be the development of a training project to make sure
that we are never stuck for qualified skippers. While initially this
will be for our own purposes, there is scope for making some money at
this in the longer term, but I've no idea how much. We need someone
to do a realistic business plan.

The
growth of the WCBS has been quite amazing, and quite scary at times,
like riding a powerful motorbike that you don't know how to control.
In 1988, the year that Hazel
was donated to the infant Wooden Canal Craft Trust, the total annual
income was £3200, with expenditures of £2500. I don't yet have
figures for 2012, but the total turnover is going to be well over
£100,000. This has its down side as some people see us as well off
and so are more mercenary in their dealings with us than used to be
the case. The fact is that for the last 3 years expenditure has
exceeded income, something that can't carry on for too much longer.
The only reason that we've been able to afford to run a deficit is
that we have some, rapidly dwindling, reserves, put by when we had
the good fortune to be given a rent free shop for 14 months during
2006/7.

The
main engine for this growth, since 1996, has been the recycling
project and its offshoots, the market stall and various shops. I
don't, again, have the 2012 figures yet, but it looks likely that our
current shop, a former woolworths and the biggest charity shop in
Ashton, will turn over about £60,000 this year. The down side of
this is that its running costs are likely to be round about £50,000,
putting only about £10,000 into WCBS funds, which is mostly
swallowed up in overheads, licenses, insurance etc. The reality of
running a charity shop is that, if you are paying a market rent for
your premises, the main beneficiary of your efforts is going to be
the landlord. That's not to say that it's not worthwhile renting a
shop, it gives us security of tenure. We were very grateful for the
free shop mentioned above, but it was a bit of a nightmare when we
were given 11 days to vacate the premises because it was going to be
sold.

The
current shop has a problem. When we moved in, Stamford St was a busy
shopping street, not quite in the very centre of Ashton, but not far
off. Gradually, under the influences of out of town shopping, online
shopping and the recession, the town centre has been imploding. Many
of the shops on Stamford St are now empty, others have become offices
or takeaways. The footfall is reducing. Despite this, Sarah's efforts
have kept the shop income up, though the last few months have been a
bit disappointing.

How
do we move this business on so that it will generate the £75000 a
year in profits that we need. We really need to start being a bit
more enterprising. I get a bit sick of hearing all the excuses for
not doing things, just drifting. One of the big ideas for our current
shop was to start a cafe there, but it's never happened.

As
many of our customers are now buying online, we need to start moving
there ourselves. Some work has been done on this recently and we're
now earning about £100 a month through online sales. This could be
expanded greatly , and a lot of the goods that currently goes to the
tip turned into money,with more volunteers to do the work, yet when
it comes up for discussion I'm always told it's not worth bothering.

Another
thing will be to look for another free shop. Our esteemed treasurer
will, of course, point out that nothing is completely free, there are
always electricity bills and water rates etc to pay, but the
potential income from rent free, albeit temporary premises, is huge.
The gain for the landlord is that they get property that is awaiting
redevelopment looked after and can get it back when they need it. The
problem then, of course,
is staffing it. This genuinely is a challenge and, despite 'Big
Society' rhetoric, government policies are actually discouraging
genuine volunteers. However, we managed it before and, with real
effort in recruiting volunteers, and with possibly a paid manager on
a short term contract in case the shop has to close suddenly, it can
be done again. I for one am willing to put some effort into this once
Hazel is finished.
Any more offers? We really need more volunteers who are able to get
stuck in and make things happen.

It's the time of
year when we don't get much sunlight and so “Hazel”s batteries
need to be topped up from the mains every now and then. She has a
huge bank of batteries that need a special charger and can't all be
charged at once. Someone, normally me, has to stay to switch from one
set of batteries to the other sometime in the night. I don't mind as
I get to stay in “Hazel”s wonderful back cabin.

To charge up I have
to shaft the boat the short distance across the aqueduct to
Dukinfield and tie up beside the premises of Dixon & Smith, Motor
Engineers. Pat and John are kind enough to let us plug in whenever we
need power. Tying up is easier said than done because of all the
rubbish in the canal. To get the bow close enough to get on and off
the boat, the stern has to be pretty much in the middle of the cut as
there is something big that catches the middle of the boat and causes
her to pivot. There was nothing to tie the stern end to as the boat
lies along the end wall of a factory. Between the factory and the
water there is a small bank of rubble so, some time ago, I drove a
pin into this and attached an old ratchet strap to it. In order to
tie up I have to hook the ratchet strap with the cabin shaft and pull
it to me. I then pass the stern line of the boat through the ratchet
strap and tie the line to the timberhead. At the fore end there is a
chain with a hook on the end secured to a post on the bank. All I
have to do is put the fore end line into the hook and tie back to the
T stud.

When tied like this,
the back cabin is facing the railway bridge and I enjoy hearing Trans
Pennine Expresses growling by, interspersed with the occasional
freight. If I open the doors I can watch them and wonder if the
passengers notice my cabin light below them on the canal.

For ages the weather
has been rainy. I've been fed up of the rain, especially as I'm
trying to work on “Forget me Not” on dock. Now, all of a sudden
the wind has turned to the North and we're getting those cold clear
winters nights that I love. Tonight the mopstick was frozen to
crunchiness by 8PM.

I've been writing
all evening, or rather talking to my computer, my friend Jackie will
type up what I've recorded. Now it's bed time. The cabin is so warm I
keep falling asleep. I tried opening the doors to let the heat out,
with the range roaring away it gets extremely toasty in here.

Whilst writing the
above paragraph I fell asleep. I woke again in a cooling cabin a
couple of hours later, so I turned out the light and snuggled into my
sleeping bag. In the morning it was cold. I had a flask to make
coffee so I decided not to light the range. All I had to do was to
shaft the boat back over the aqueduct to Portland Basin. I quickly
dressed and put on all the gloves I could find, then climbed out into
the crisp cold still dark morning. After disconnecting the charging
cables I untied the lines, stiff with frost, and threw the ratchet
strap back on to the bank. I then grasped the icy shaft with my
gloved hands and, taking care not to slip on the frosty roof, pushed
the fore end out into the channel, cat ice chinkling as the boat
pushed it aside.

The stern end was
stuck on something and, as I couldn't exert as much effort as usual
because I was standing on a slippery surface, it took a while to get
it free. By this time my hands were becoming very painful in spite of
the 3 pairs of gloves that I was wearing. I decided that I would have
to go inside to warm up. I went into the main cabin and lit a fire,
enjoying its heat while I drank a cup of coffee.

When I had thawed
sufficiently I climbed back on to the roof in the now bright and
shiny but still cold morning, and started to move the boat towards
the aqueduct, jumping down on to the towpath to give her a good tug
with the fore end line before climbing back aboard to swing her round
with the shaft and tie up abreast of “Lilith”. With everything
secure I headed for home to get ready for another day working on
“Forget me Not”.

A sign of the times.

It was a hot sunny day and I was busy working on the boats at
Portland Basin when I noticed a wheelbarrow parked on the towpath
across the canal. As we have wheelbarrows on the boats for collecting
on recycling trips, I went over to see if someone had borrowed on of
ours. When I got there I could hear banging and slushing noises from
the other side of the stone wall. The ground drops steeply down about
20 feet of wooded rocky bank to the River Tame. I looked over and saw
three men sploshing about in the river and dragging out rusty bikes,
scaffold poles etc. One of them saw me looking and explained that
they had decided to clean up the river.

This public spirited explanation was slightly marred by the fact
that they only seemed to be removing metal objects, leaving behind
much, equally unsightly, but valueless, plastic.

They dragged their ochre encrusted booty up the bank, over the
wall and managed to load it into the sagging barrow ( which wasn't
one of ours). I imagine they must have had a van nearby because it's
over 2 miles to the nearest scrapyard that takes iron.

I think it's a good thing that people clear up and weigh in the
clutter that others have carelessly discarded, but I also see
desperation in the men's actions. I haven't seen this sort of
activity since the 1980s when long years of unemployment spurred the
picking up of beer cans, dragging ditches for scrap metal and other
forms of scavenging. Anything to make a few bob to try to make ends
meet. Are we now going to have another no hope generation like that
of the Thatcher years? Growing up with no understanding of the
concept of working for a living.

Kingfisher Morning

Friday morning at Portland Basin. The snow and ice had departed
overnight and so I was able at last to drive the van down the hill to
the wharf. I noticed Mr Woodcutter perched on the hatches of "Elton"
peering into the watery interior. I had been unable to keep the boat
afloat during the icy period. I think ice had prevented a bilge pump
from switching off, so it ran until the battery was exhausted, then
the boat filled up with water.

As I walked over to talk to the woodcutter my eye detected a
movement near the stern end of "Hazel". A flash of electric
blue whizzed out across the water as a kingfisher took flight. It is
years since I've seen a kingfisher at Portland Basin. I was
delighted. It seemed like an omen of good things to come in the
awakening year.

Mr Woodcutter came back across the boats and I set him up with
some waste wood to cut up for the boat ranges. He is the first
volunteer I have ever come across who never tires of cutting wood.
Consequently we have not had the usual Christmas firewood crisis this
year.

Mr Woodcutter is an excellent fellow, and yet would be despised as
a scrounger by many, which is why I call him Mr Woodcutter. He is a
simple man, not in the sense of being a simpleton, but of enjoying
the simple things in life. He enjoys walking and physical exercise,
which is why he comes and cuts our firewood. Most of all he enjoys a
skinful of good quality ale (none of your cheap lager thank you very
much). Unlike many who get the taste for alcohol, Mr Woodcutter seems
to be very much in control of the drink, rather than the drink being
in control of him.

Mr Woodcutter's dislikes include employment, which is why some
people would have little time for him. Personally I feel that the
idle rich, who live by renting out their inherited assets, are more
of a brake on the well being of the populace than the few who choose
to take the pittance that the dole offers in return for a less
stressed life. Post triumph of capitalism that is an unpopular view!

Mr Woodcutter is an expert at staying one step ahead of the
system, and good for him. He is fascinated by the Loch Ness Monster
and often stays near Inverness, which he considers to be the best
place on Earth, in order to catch a glimpse of the fabulous beast. So
far he has been unsuccessful.

I lit fires in "Forget me Not" and "Southam"
to dry the cabins out, then started the petrol powered pump to raise
"Elton". As the water gushed from "Elton I started
sorting out the bilge pumps that had failed during the icy period.
Soon the boat was floating again and the woodcutter had run out of
work for his bowsaw. We picked up saw horse, bowsaw and firewood
sacks and walked the quarter mile to the bit of woodland that I look
after. Mr Woodcutter was happy to get to work cutting up the
sycamores that I felled a week or so previously.

Returning to the boats I put some pies in "Southam"s
oven and carried on sorting out pumps. Mr Woodcutter niether eats nor
drinks during the day so I enjoyed my meal alone. He cut loads of
wood, which I collected in the van later. By the end of the day,
which is about 3PM at this time of year, things seemed to be getting
back to normal after the disruption caused by wintry weather.

It had been a long day, made less comfortable by a vicious wind
that whipped up the sawdust into a desert storm. As I inserted the
resharpened saw into the groove for the final cut, an Anderton Marina
hireboat emerged from the Peak Forest Canal and started to turn into
the wind towards Manchester.

The lady of the boat, a solidly built cheerful scotswoman, walked
by on the towpath with a big collie dog. We exchanged smiles and she
carried on, then backtracked to ask about a safe mooring for the
night. Her husband was now frantically backing up to avoid the boat
hitting the newly repainted "Community Spirit" on the
outside of the turn. The wind caught the flat cabin side like a sail
and took the boat sideways.

I suggested that they back up and tie on the outside alongside the
flats, the site of the prophet John Wroe's magnificent but long
disapeared house. This was good advice from the point of view of
having an undisturbed night, but would involve some manoevring that
beginners would find challenging even on a still day.

As we spoke the boat reversed into the shallow water on the far
side of the bridge and the rudder crunched into the stone copings.
The bonny lady hurried over the bridge to help push it off and pass
on my advice to her partner. He engaged forward gear and attempted to
get the stern away from the bank, but an ominous underwater
clattering indicated that the blade had picked up something that was
battering the bottom of the counter as it rotated.

Its ability to manouvre further inhibited by rubbish on the prop,
the boat moved slowly forwards, still in the grip of the wind. I
could see that he wasn't going to get the boat to its destination
without hitting one of our boats, but I wouldn't have minded if he
simply scraped his bow along the side of "Southam". The
sensible thing to do would have been to forget about engine power and
use the shaft, which lay idle on the cabin roof, to get control of
the errant fore end. I have always, however, found a great reluctance
among trainee, and sometimes experienced, boaters to use the shaft.

The strategy employed to control the boat was a surprising one. As
the bow headed into the arm where the boats awaiting restoration
float in shallow water I expected to see a flush of sterngear from
the still clattering prop. Instead the boat carried on until it
impacted "Elton"s stern. She gave a lurch, then resigned
herself to being used as a fulcrum as, still in forward gear, the man
put his tiller over to lever the boat round. As soon as he backed up
the wind caught the bow and he lost control again. He repeated the
manouvre, but this time, the hireboat's bow having moved a few feet
Eastwards, it was "Queen"s turn to suffer the indignity of
a ramming.

I stood watching, open mouthed and dumbstruck. I knew that both
boats were tough enough to withstand these blows, but I was amazed at
the sheer disregard for other peoples craft.

The boat backed up again. The next boat in line for a blow from
its bow was "Hazel", our most fragile boat. Somehow he
managed to miss her, but, as anticipated, scraped his bow along the
side of "Southam" instead. As his stern end approached the
footbridge he threw a line up to his wife, who sensibly led the boat
back to the overnight mooring that I had suggested.

I started the saw and quickly completed the last cut, by which
time my anger had subsided a little. I shafted "Lilith"
back across the basin to tie up abreast of "Southam", then
went to dig out some leaflets from "Forget me Not"s cabin.
I walked over to the moored hireboat and tapped on the roof. The
woman emerged and reddened when she saw me. I sought to defuse her
embarrasment with a smile, it wasn't her who had been steering, and
handed her the leaflets. I said "Here's some information about
the historic boats you just rammed". She was full of apologies,
but she didn't call her husband out to face me. I diverted the
conversation away from the incident as she was clearly uncomfortable,
but it was her partner that I wanted to feel that discomfort. He had
not once looked in my direction as he carried out his cavalier
careering around the basin.

I went off to get some food. Early in the morning the boat left to
work down the locks to Manchester. I wonder what sort of night the
arrogant man had. It would be no surprise to me if the ghost of Jack
Monk ( "Queen" was his first motor boat and remained his
favourite) had visited him in the night and given him terrifying
dreams of boatmans justice.

Tags

Chris Leah

For the last 40 odd years I've been messing about with old wooden narrow boats. I helped to set up the Wooden Canal Boat Society which has a collection of 6 historic boats which would probably have all been broken up without WCBS intervention. I've been involved in restoring "Lilith" (1901) "Forget me Not" (1927" and "Hazel" (1913) and am currently skippering "Hazel" as a well being boat providing trips and holidays for people who need their spirits raising.